


a menace to society

by writingramblr



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Car Sex, I think?, Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt, of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 23:49:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15376080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: it's always been leading to this, hasn't it?at least, that's what Hank tells himself.





	a menace to society

**Author's Note:**

> __  
> the prompt:  
>  Connor does that head twitch that drives Hank mad, the way the androids neck is exposed and his eyes hooded. There's no way Connor isn't aware of what he's doing to Hank with that. One day it leads to a very steamy situation in Hanks parked car
> 
>  
> 
> full disclosure, you should know, i havent actually played this game, i just love these two.  
> i've seen and rt-ed so much art on twitter i *feel* like i know them even if i dont.  
> i’ve also combined an anon prompt i got for connor in lingerie. 
> 
> im also craving that sweet, sweet, validation growing ships provide. 
> 
> please feed me.

“Stop it.”

“What?” He does it again. Hank’s teeth will eventually be ground away into fine powder the longer he has to be around this android, grating his patience and getting on his last nerve. 

Or maybe, he should stop lying to himself, and just admit he finds Connor more than a little… well, he’s a machine. That should be a deterrent right there. But it’s not. 

“You’re not lying to me are you?” He tries instead, watching that spinning circle of light. 

It’s blue, then yellow, then blue again. 

Connor tilts his head, synth eyelashes fluttering. 

“I would not waste time by lying to you, Lieutenant. It would be counterproductive.” Right there, that too. Hank  _ hates _ the way Connor says his title. Almost with a purr. Like he’s calling him something else entirely.

Like he  _ wishes _ the android would. Like he’s only had half a dozen wet dreams in the last two weeks. 

He’s regressing to his damn teenagehood. “Well then, stop giving me sex eyes.” Hank says gruffly.

_ That _ gives Connor pause. The yellow light spins and spins and eventually he feels a touch of satisfaction. 

“From observing your browsing history, I must say, this is not how a man of your stature would usually initiate intercourse.” Now Hank is the one who’s having to think very hard, very quickly. 

His hands tighten on the steering wheel, and he considers how dangerous pulling over on the freeway is. 

A bit too much for his career and heart to handle, he thinks. 

Connor doesn’t stop, the silence merely emboldens him. 

“I believe most often in the  _ ‘bear rails pretty twink’ _ videos, there is some kind of casual conversation, that rapidly spirals into sexual innuendos. We haven’t gotten there. To call my expression ‘sex eyes’ is jumping the gun a bit, so to speak.” Hank isn’t sure, but he  _ thinks _ Connor’s light is going red.

There’s a tint of blue to his cheeks also, and he knows very well what  _ that _ means. 

“Why the hell have you been snooping through my internet history, Connor?”

“To better understand you, of course. In the hopes I might get to know you, and possibly some day initiate an encounter of our own.” 

The car screeches to a halt, in a mercifully abandoned parking lot, as the fog of confused lust in Hank’s head cleared long enough to allow him to get off the highway and take the first exit to a park he could spot. “Is that right? You think every android is just going around… hitting on their human partner?”

Connor opens his mouth and says the word Gavin, and Hank promptly regrets asking. “But why now?”

He doesn’t bother with ‘why me, why us,  _ why _ the fuck,’ he just goes for broke. 

Connor smiles again, sweetly, and Hank almost drops his keys after shutting off the engine. 

That damn circle glows yellow, and then sky blue while the android’s grey eyes zero in on his face, still half lidded. “We have no important cases for the foreseeable future. Three days at least. Is that not a good amount of time to become acquainted?” Hank coughs. 

“You mean sexually? You think I’m up for some kind of sex marathon with you?” 

Now that the idea is in his head, he’s considering the lengths he’d need to go to for it. 

It’s not pretty, but for some reason, Hank’s cock is  _ very _ interested. 

Connor shifts in his seat, and his face still has that bluish tint. “If you would like.”

Hank splutters in his best imitation of a protest, while the android undoes his seat belt and starts climbing over the divider, settling himself in Hank’s lap before anything more can be said. Not that he’s formed coherent thoughts. Now, with a delicate weight of Connor draped over his thighs, Hank’s finding most thoughts beyond how much he would like to kiss that dumb idiot’s face, and how soft his synth skin might feel...is his hair as silky as it looks? 

“Would you like me to undress myself or would you prefer to do that-”

Hank fairly growls at him, cutting off Connor’s pseudo babbling, and his light flashes yellow to red to yellow again. “Oh.”

Both of his hands end up on the android’s hips, looking entirely too massive compared to the rest of him, and then Connor suddenly ducks down to kiss him. Hank blinks, finding for once, Connor’s eyes have fallen all the way shut, and he tastes like mint. 

Connor’s tongue slips between his shocked open mouth, and then Hank’s grabbing, gripping, holding on for dear life, kissing back like it hasn’t been months since he so much as touched another person, much less a human. This still counts as interactions between living breathing things, right? Sort of? 

One of Connor’s hands is in his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, keeping his vision clear, but his own eyes are fluttering shut now, he’s losing himself into this kiss. 

Hank gets his hands under Connor’s jacket and shirt, and feels something soft, more so than synth skin, and he pulls away from the kiss in favor of shoving the fabric up and out of the way. There’s green satin over the pale skin dotted lightly with freckles. Connor’s design seems tailor made to drive Hank insane.

“You’re wearing… a camisole?” He stammers, and Connor’s light spins, as he looks quite pleased.

“It’s lingerie.” 

The car is so cramped, its so damn crowded, yet Hank doesn’t move, doesn’t  _ breathe _ , as he helps Connor out of his confining uniform, and catches sight of the entire getup. Complete with matching panties that strain a little over the android’s groin, Hank’s got a lapful of gorgeous synth clad in emerald. 

Connor looks very proud of himself, and somehow the blush manages not to clash with the lingerie. 

“I take it by your silence that you are pleased by my choice of attire.” He says, and Hank reaches down between his legs, adjusting himself minutely, but obviously. Connor gives him a split second of peace, then shifts up and settles right over top of the swell of his cock. 

“You’re not-” Hank groans, breaking off, as Connor moves a little, then leans in for another kiss, halting just short to whisper, “I am hoping you will let me ride you? I know the space is not conducive to-”

_ “Let _ you? Oh christ.” Hank sighs heavily, and Connor rocks back up, worming a hand between their bodies to deftly undo the zip fly of his pants, slim fingers dipping into his underwear, pulling his cock free, exposing him to the android’s eager gaze. Can he be eager? 

Is any of this real, or is Hank just about to wake up from potentially the best wet dream of all time? 

He pinches himself, and grunts in pain, before looking back to Connor, who’s most certainly stroking a hand up and down his cock, throbbing with need. 

Hank can touch too, he’s not just a lazy son of a bitch taking advantage of his android partner, he’s not. He thumbs over the silk that’s a bit damp over the top of Connor’s dick, and if he’s not going crazy, he’s pretty sure he can feel the android jump a little from the gentle friction.

“Do you like that?” He asks quietly, his voice gone rough, mostly due to Connor jerking him steadily closer to coming, but he isn’t about to tell him to stop or slow down. Hank hears rather than sees the nod of affirmation, a vibrating hum leaving Connor when his hand slips under the waistband of the underwear, and his fingers meet pseudo flesh. It  _ feels _ like a real dick, and it’s even leaking precum, of a sort. 

Hank wonders if it tastes as good as kissing Connor’s mouth does. 

He thinks of it, then can’t really stop himself from trying. 

Hank pulls his hand back, and sticks a finger in between his lips. He’s tonguing the pad of his thumb when he realizes he’s on the verge of turning  _ into _ the android. Licking everything that he comes across. 

He frowns in mild irritation at how much it makes him want to smile.

Connor’s wrist moves, and his fingers grip tighter, the next thing Hank knows, he’s climaxing in a flash of white light. He comes back to, and Connor’s rocking over his lap, looking a touch concerned, frowning down at him, clean hand cupping Hank’s cheek, petting down his neck. “Are you alright Hank?” 

 

“So you do know my name then.” He says, chuckling a little, perhaps delirious from exhaustion and arousal. Connor swallows, unnecessarily, and then lifts a hand to his mouth, tongue peeking out between his perfect plush lips. Hank’s spent cock gives a twitch at the sight. 

The android’s hand is striped with his come, oozing right between those long fingers, only to be promptly licked away, presumably analyzed by Connor’s usual programming. Hank almost doesn’t want to know. 

“It appears your diet may be lacking in-”

Hank leans in and kisses Connor, shutting him up the best way he knows how. 

Thanks to his eyes staying open, he can see the light go from yellow to red, to blue. 

“Sorry kid, I’m afraid the ride’s gotta be canceled.” Connor hums again, and then breaks the kiss to grab for Hank’s hand, which had been merely resting over his naked thigh, before he guides it back between his legs. His cock sticks out from under the green silky hem, and Hank feels his own chest tightening.

He can’t imagine how it might feel to have  _ that _ down his throat, or maybe inside him. It’s been… a while.

Connor moves his hips encouragingly, thrusting into Hank’s palm, “Not much longer, and I’ll reach my release too. It might not be as beautiful as seeing you orgasm was though, Lieutenant.” 

“Back to titles are we?” Hank asks, his tone is annoyed, but something inside his chest is fracturing. 

Maybe his self control. Connor starts making these soft little gasps, perhaps for show, or just because, and Hank’s own breathing hitches, as he gets to watch the android’s expression fall back into sex eyes territory. The circle of light is a steady yellow, flickering every so often towards red.

Connor’s head tilts to the side, and Hank decides, fuck it, he’s going to see if he can leave a hickey on synth skin. He leans in, and slots his lips over Connor’s exposed neck, while moving his hand quicker over the android’s cock, each stroke growing wetter and wetter. 

There’s a tiny change in Connor’s not quite breathing, and Hank feels the length of him pulsing into his palm, spilling over his fingers. It’s far slipperier than normal human ejaculate, and smells vaguely like chemicals, but Hank’s not bothered. He’s too busy trying to mark up the skin under Connor’s jaw.

He pulls back and sighs, seeing hardly any change, except a darkening blue blush that ripples from the android’s chest up to his face, and that’s when he notices his hand is covered in blue also.

“Your jizz… isn’t white?” Hank manages to choke out, and Connor beams. “Synth fluids are all generally the same color to save costs. There are upgrades for red blood, and white semen, but those are extra.”

Hank slumps back into his seat, feeling like he might sleep for a week. “Is that so?” 

Connor goes off on a tangent, multitasking by cleaning himself up with a stray napkin plucked from the cupholder to his left, Hank’s right, and then he’s pulling his uniform back on like they didn’t just fool around in the front seat. “I see.” He mumbles, more to shut Connor up than because he’s actually listening. He gets a sudden kiss on the temple, and then the android is climbing back over to the passenger side, buckling up. Hank looks down at himself, seeing that Connor has even put him back together, like nothing ever happened. The android doesn’t have a single brown hair out of place.

“Is everything alright Lieutenant?” 

“Sure thing, yeah.” 

 

It happens again the next day, and this time, Hank manages to fend Connor off from making him come just long enough to get  _ inside _ him before he blows his load, but that’s another story.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**end**


End file.
